


Public Knowledge

by calysto1395



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Oblivious Varric, Pining, Politics, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Pre-Trespasser, Viscount Varric, but a hopeful one, open end, rogue hawke - Freeform, so many politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 01:32:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11636166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calysto1395/pseuds/calysto1395
Summary: Varric was loyal to precious few things in his life. Kirkwall was one of them.Restoring it to a functional city was taking up all of his attention even with Hawke's return.





	Public Knowledge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [servantofclio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/servantofclio/gifts).



If Varric didn’t know better, he would think that the previous viscount left a bureaucratic nightmare for him on purpose. The nobility of Kirkwall had been way too eager to let a dwarf get the position; likely because everyone knew it was going to be a disaster, and would prove whatever prejudice they had about his kind and him in particular. Varric didn’t know why he had even accepted. He hated all politics that didn’t concern him or those he cared about directly. Now he had to care about all those things. And who the hell thought up a cheese tax anyway?

It was only a small blessing that Sebastian and Starkhaven had finally issued a ceasefire after pressure from the Inquisition. They weren’t under siege anymore, but that also meant that every menial task now required his attention- preferably yesterday. He felt he’d aged 5 years for every month he had been stuck in this tiny office.

The old Tevinter that built this place hadn’t spared any expense, and the previous residents had decorated it to their heart’s content, but here Varric was, missing the smell of old vomit and beer of the Hanged Man. He wondered for a moment if he couldn’t just relocate his office there, and then immediately remembered Aveline’s face when she swore to protect his life - as long as he did his duty to Kirkwall that was. She had made it very clear that the minute the power corrupted him would be the minute she would strike him down. He had almost laughed, had he not been so terrified. How absurd the idea of him betraying Kirkwall and it’s people was.

Varric was loyal to precious few things in his life. Kirkwall was one of them.

He looked up from his papers to crack his neck, only to see the moon high in the night sky through the windows. Tomorrow he would have to negotiate reopening trade routes with Tantervale and he was not looking forward to it. He’d had his share of religious fanatics for a lifetime and had hoped to never have to associate with one again. But if Kirkwall wanted to prosper again, dealings with Tantervale were unavoidable. Maybe the person they sent was even reasonable. Wouldn’t that be a nice change of pace.

With protesting knees, Varric got up from his desk, stretched, and let his spine crack to his satisfaction before blowing out the candles. There was nothing he wanted more than to collapse in his bed and sleep for a day or five. Why he had even accepted this blighted job, he didn’t even know. The click of his office door falling shut behind him was music in his ears as he walked over to his private chambers. Living here hadn’t quite lost its novelty yet. He had broken into many mansions in Hightown but never into the Keep. It had always seemed too much of a hassle just to satisfy his curiosity. Now he walked these halls every day, made his mark on them. One of the first things he had done had been throwing out all the furniture in the private rooms and replacing it with his own. Now it almost felt homey, if it weren’t for the high stone walls and marble floors. He had covered most of them with carpets, but they still felt cold under naked feet no matter the temperature outside. In the Hanged Man you couldn’t get the heat out of the building, especially not in the summer. The Keep never got warm or inviting.

Just as Varric started to undress for the night, he stopped himself. He should probably read up a little on Tantervale culture before tomorrow so he didn’t accidentally cause a diplomatic incident. If he ever caused one, Varric wanted them to be on purpose. He slouched back down the hallway to his office wondering where he probably put the book on Marcher customs when he heard ruffling noises from behind the closed door.

Someone had broken into his office.

An thief? Unlikely as trespassing in the Keep, as if caught, you would be punished with execution. Varric had changed that rule, but hardly anyone knew that yet.

An assassin? Probably no one from the nobility wanted him dead. Some asshole humans who didn’t want to be ruled by a dwarf? Or maybe Sebastian unceremoniously declaring the ceasefire over? Or someone who didn’t like the Inquisition?

There were too many people out to kill him lately.

Naturally, he had forgotten Bianca in his bedroom. There was still the little dagger strapped to his ankle, so he could make do. If he got himself killed tonight, Aveline would never let him hear the end of it. Especially because he didn’t alert any of the guard. He could handle a dumb thief or a stupid assassin himself just fine.

With the knife in one hand and the doorknob in the other, Varric slowly opened the door, hoping the intruder wouldn’t notice. The same second he opened the door, there was a crash from inside with a muttered curse drowning underneath. He used the distraction to open the door fully and step inside.

The fireplace still lit the entire room well enough to see despite the advanced hour. The intruder must have fallen from the window’s ledge and had taken a couple of things off Varric’s desk with them.

There was a low groan, followed by a “Shit.” And Varric forgot all about the knife in his hand.

“Hawke?” He asked and stepped closer to his desk. Shortly after a mop of black hair appeared from behind it.

“Hello, Varric!” Hawke greeted him and collected herself from the floor. “That was not my most elegant moment.” She chuckled and collected a dropped bag and the spilled papers from the ground. Hawke looked good. Tired and travel worn, but good. She had gotten some color in her cheeks, her hair had grown out a bit, and had no injuries as far as he could see, or that would have prevented her from climbing into his window. Her armour was different, a few parts replaced and repaired with a patchwork of materials. He would have to commision her a new one. Couldn’t have their Champion walk around in this.

“I thought you were in Weisshaupt.” Were his first words.

Hawke came around the desk, a slight limp to her stride. Though he couldn’t tell if from her graceful plummet into his office or other causes. “I was. Then I was politely asked to fuck off so they could do their Warden business.”, She came to a stop right in front of him, almost too close to be comfortable. There was a wavering smile on her lips. “Hi.”

“Hi.”, He smiled back, then lifted his arms. “Come here.” Finally she bent down for a hug. It must have felt awful on her back, but she didn’t show it, just tightened her arms around him like a vice. Maker, she smelled awful, as was to be expected after a long journey. But she was warm and alive in his arms, that was worth the assault on his nostrils.

“My fortune for a bed.” She groaned as they parted, and Varric put a hand on the small of her back to lead her to his rooms.

“Technically I have all your fortune already.”, he told her. Of course, he had only made sure the Chantry didn’t just seize it while Hawke was on the run, but officially he owned everything.

Hawke sighed dramatically. “Mother was right. I should have never trusted you.”

Varric chuckled. “I’ll prepare the paperwork in the morning so you can have it all back. How were the Anderfels?” He asked as they walked through the long hallway with all the creepy portraits. Every former Viscount stared at them from their canvases with varying levels of quality. He had thought about getting rid of them but that had seemed a little disrespectful, even for him.

“Dreadful. They have sandstorms, Varric. Sandstorms. Snow and ice I can handle, but save me from the blighted sandstorms.”, they reached one of the guestrooms and Varric opened the door for her. Hawke dropped her dusty pack and coat on the floor by the bed as Varric made to light the fireplace. “And griffons. Tons of griffons.”

Varric shot her a look over his shoulder. “I thought they were extinct.”

Hawke started taking off the her armour plates. “Didn’t we all? Turns out Weisshaupt had a whole nest flourishing underneath their feet. Vicious beasts. They gave us a warm welcome as soon as we got there.”

Varric shook his head. The return of the griffons. Who would have thought.

“You’ll have to tell me all about it over breakfast.”, he said then shook his head again. “Actually make that dinner. I’ll be busy most of the day.”

Hawke set her twin knifes on the small table next to the bed. Different ones than the ones she had left with. Then she started on one of her hundred belts. “Oh, really, important Viscount business?” she grinned. “Who paid you to take this job?”

Varric sighed. “Don’t I wish I had taken money for it. This city is a mess. It’s been months and we are only now starting negotiations for the trade routes. Starkhaven had us completely cut off from everything but Ostwick. City’s been living on practically nothing but fish for weeks. Highever offered some wares but they knew we were desperate for it so their prices were unacceptable. And now without Starkhaven breathing down our necks and distracting us everyone has the energy to complain about every little thing again.” He had gotten louder and louder toward the end and had to stop himself before he started pulling at his own hair.

Hawke had sat down on the edge of her bed and was simply looking at him. He couldn’t help but notice that she had - thankfully - stopped undressing in front of him. Varric wasn’t sure if he would have been able to take that. “Sounds like quite the mess,” She said quietly.

“That’s what I said,” Varric groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been up all day. I’m afraid I’m not good company right now. Let’s continue this tomorrow.”

Hawke shrugged. “Sure. I’m about ready to drop. I can help you with the work, if you want.”

Varric raised an eyebrow at her. “You and politics?”

She rolled her eyes. “Just because I hate them, doesn’t mean I don’t know how they work. I’m sacrificing myself here for your sake.”

“I won’t say no to that. You might have to take it up with Aveline too, though. She fought too hard for this city to let us mess it up without her blessing.” He told her.

“I’ll make the rounds tomorrow. Is Merrill still living in-”

“That shitty hovel in the Alienage? Yes.” Despite Varric’s many offers to get a nicer place. Merrill felt right at home there with the other elves, and had been invaluable since the siege. She may not have specialized in healing magic, but she was trained well enough to help out the few medics they had in the city, and by the Maker did they have enough of those to keep even Inquisition forces busy. He had gotten some of the staff that the Inquisition didn’t need anymore to help with the rebuilding but it was all on volunteer basis. Many of them had left after a few weeks. As soon as they had sickness had spread all over the med camps-

Varric couldn’t think about all of this right now. His head was full, his mind and body tired. Kirkwall could wait until tomorrow. When he came back to himself, Hawke was smiling gently at him, her eyes filled with something kind.

“Go to sleep, Varric. The world isn’t going to end while you sleep. It’ll be rude enough to wake you up.”

Before he could think too much about Hawke’s expression, he bid her goodnight as and retired to his own bed.

* * *

Aveline and Varric spent surprisingly little time together, given that they occupied the same building most of the day. It was due to their jobs, mostly. More truthful was they never had much to say to one another, with Aveline usually being very suspicious of him and everything he did, and him being annoyed with her dutiful character. They had reached an understanding over the years, but that didn’t change the fact that they had little in common and hardly sought the other’s company. That night however he did hunt her down in her office where she was working late as usual. Maybe Hawke’s return had made him nostalgic. Maybe the stress and insomnia made him desperate for company. And Hawke herself was spending the night out with Merrill.

“Guard Captain,” he greeted her, knocking on her open door. She stood by the window, overlooking the sleeping Kirkwall beneath them like the silent guardian she was.

She inclined her head. “Viscount Tethras,” Aveline replied. It was their little game.

“Keeping busy?” He shot a look at her overflowing desk- a twin to his own- as he joined her by the window. The moonlight washed all the color from the yellow stone walls the city was made of.

“I’ve adjusted the guard patrol around the Keep. It’s good Hawke showed us the weak spot before someone with worse intentions did. Though I don’t know how she managed to fit through those windows,” Varric had to admit it was an admirable feat with how small they were. “And I’m going through some applications and recommendations for new guardsmen. We need to strengthen our numbers again.” She said and her eyes grew distant. Starkhaven’s occupation had taken many lives, most of them Aveline’s men, many who Varric knew personally. Varric couldn’t help but feel guilty about not being there, even if Cassandra had dragged him off as a witness - prisoner. He could have helped her deal with this mess and maybe prevented it from getting so bad.

“Stop it,” Aveline said. “I can feel you feeling sorry for yourself.”

He often pondered why Aveline hadn’t gotten his job. Maybe they had offered, but she had refused. She was a guardswoman after all, not interested in being a viscountess. Maybe the nobility hadn’t liked that she had been born Ferelden, as many of them had objected to her being made guard captain back in the day because of that. Since then Aveline had gained a good standing, especially during the siege. He couldn’t decide what the nobility in Kirkwall hated more, non-humans or refugees.

Varric gave a grin and a shrug. “Can’t help it sometimes.”

Aveline only offered a hum in response. “Spoke to Hawke today. I’m glad she’s back home.”

“That makes two of us. Apparently Weisshaupt was it’s own pile of shit.”

“Indeed. She offered to help you with your work.” Aveline said, nonchalant. Which was as good as her waving a red flag to call for battle.

Varric chose his words carefully. “Yeah, there are a lot of things that a seneschal would be dealing with if I had one. I’ll take any help I can get.” Bran had left them in the dust sometime during the siege, and Aveline had been happy to see him go. So far no one else had been lining up to take the position. Hardly anyone even approached the Keep unless on official business.

Aveline nodded slowly. “I understand times are hectic, but don’t take advantage just because Hawke won’t say no.” She looked at him and put a hand on the pommel of her sword.

Varric could only frown. “I would never take advantage of Hawke, Aveline. You know that. What the hell brought this on?”

She huffed a breath as if she thought him daft. “I know you would never do it intentionally. I am just telling you to watch your words around her.”

“Why are you acting like I could make Hawke do anything? Last time I checked she was her own damn person.” Suddenly he remembered why he and Aveline rarely socialized without any of the others to act as buffer between them. It was as if they were speaking different languages and they were both too stubborn to elaborate on anything.

Aveline locked eyes with him. “You know why.” She took her hand off her sword and went back to her desk, declaring the conversation over.

* * *

It had taken Varric too long to accept that things had changed to be able to go back to thinking they were the same. Back then, he hardly went a day without seeing Hawke in some fashion, even when he wasn’t trailing after her on an adventure, sometimes they just passed each other on the streets or he saw her from afar dodging into an alley. Kirkwall may have been built as a maze, but it had always been small. After everything with Meredith, it had been hard not to turn around and expect Hawke to be there just out of his sight- only to realize she wasn’t. Sure, Varric had other people watching his back in the Inquisition, but none he could keep score with the way he used to with Hawke. He painfully learned to keep some jokes to himself because nobody would get them anyway, to avoid looking over his shoulder to give a non-existent Hawke a look and to just remember what he wanted to say so he could write it down in a letter later. How Varric had hated it. But how used to it he had gotten.

With Hawke back, it seemed impossible to behave like he used to. Then again, the circumstances were vastly different now, so maybe it was just impossible to begin with. After all they were running around Lowtown killing thugs for coin, he was running a government and Hawke was-

That was the question.

Hawke was doing little else than providing company and occasional aid with paperwork that she could work through without needing his input. Sometimes she hung around Aveline’s office all day and made a nuisance out of herself, or spent the day out in the city with Merrill. Of course, Hawke had nowhere else to spend her time at.

During the chaos after their fight with Meredith and the Starkhaven siege, many parts of Kirkwall had suffered varying levels of property damage. Lowtown, Darktown, the docks and the Alienage had been hit hardest while Hightown had mostly gotten by unscathed, save for the old Amell residence. Every building surrounding it had miraculously sustained little damage, while Hawke’s old home had been leveled to the ground.

Aveline had investigated but ultimately had to focus on other things to avoid losing the city to Starkhaven. She had admitted that while it was obviously meant to be a blow against Hawke personally, neither she nor the city were able to care much for one building. Varric however cared very much, and was planning to deliver swift justice to whoever was responsible. But those were thoughts for another time.

Fact was, that Hawke had arrived little under three weeks ago and didn’t appear to be leaving anytime soon, as her bag was still mostly unpacked in the guestroom she had claimed. Varric didn’t know what to think, and if there was anything that made him anxious, it was not knowing something.

“Hawke, what are your plans?” Varric asked casually over a stack of paperwork about boulders. Literal boulders. He had hoped to abandon all mining related things after they had dealt with the Bone Pit, but here he was.

“Tonight? Drinking excessively to forget about this.” Hawke told him, slouched in a chair by the fireplace. She shook the papers in her hand in emphasis before going back to reading them. He smiled sympathetically. He himself had gone over Aveline’s law proposals multiple times and while she had a keen eye on how to establish public order in the long term, some things were quite excessive. Maybe he should have given Hawke the mining business to deal with, after all she sort of had experience in that.

“I meant long term. Are you staying in Kirkwall?” His heart felt heavy at the question, and his head was confused with what answer he would prefer. Hawke leaving again would be unfortunate, especially because she cut his workload almost in half but on the other hand, Hawke staying would mean getting used to her being around. Which didn’t seem like a bad thing unless one remembered that she could just as quickly disappear again after he had adjusted. Varric was a creature of habit and rarely invited change.

Hawke gnawed on her bottom lip and stroked out a sentence on her papers before she shrugged. “Not sure. Fenris said he wanted help slave hunting further inland,” when Hawke looked over and saw his raised eyebrow she elaborated. “He insinuated he wanted help. You know how he is.”

Varric nodded, relieved and disappointed at once. “Sounds like a better pastime than this.”

Hawke merely hummed in response and dedicated her full attention back to her work.

* * *

Varric was going to commit murder by the end of this meeting. Inviting all the nobility of Kirkwall had seemed like a good idea on paper, as Varric had no interest being a tyrant or shouldering the responsibility of leadership alone. Giving the people that had brought him into this mess an opportunity to voice their opinions seemed the logical option, but he had forgotten that most of Kirkwall’s high society were fucking idiots.

“I’m very sorry, Monsieur De Launcet, this is not something we can focus our resources on right now. Not with half of Lowtown still living on the streets. Or with the diseases running through Darktown.” He explained as slowly as possible and ignored the rolling eyes and scoffs he heard from the other people at the table.

De Launcet clicked his tongue. “As if these parts of Kirkwall are of any importance. The city would be better off without those ulcers.”

“My, my. That’s not very nice, Monsieur.” Everyone in the room turned and started as the giant double doors leading into the room opened, letting the evening light spill in from the hallway.

Hawke closed them behind her, loud enough to make Lady Silana flinch and spill her drink. She sauntered over, with all eyes following her every move and sat down on one of the chairs next to him that all of his guests had left empty.

“Without Darktown or Lowtown all parts of the city would suffer. After all, who wants all the beggars and prostitutes in Hightown?” She asked with fake sincerity, and earned herself a few very sincere nods and concerned muttering.

“Excuse me. What are you doing here? I don’t remember you being invited, Champion.” One of the Lord’s Varric choose to forget the name of in that second spit her title like an insult.

Before he could take a breath to give a rebuttal Hawke had already risen from her seat and placed her hands on the table. Now that she was close, they could all see her daggers strapped to her hip.

“Last time I checked, as Lady of the house Amell, I am still part of Kirkwall nobility. Not to mention, the Champion-”, she threw the title back at him as a threat. “By law I have a right to sit with my peers . Not to mention that I was invited.”, She took a letter out of her pocket and slapped in on the table. It was the one Varric had slipped in the between the paperwork for her to do that morning as a joke. Shortly after she slammed one of her blades through, pinning it to the table. “Does anyone else have objections to my presence?”

Varric hid a grin behind his hand as everyone of the nobles shook their heads. He swore he could smell one of the pissing themselves.

He cleared his throat and put his professional mask back on. “Shall we continue?”

Hawke sat back down in her chair, leaving the dagger sticking in front of her. “Please. We were talking about the reconstruction of Lowtown, yes? Marvelous idea.”

* * *

Isabela’s return to Kirkwall was the kind of thing Varric would have used to write humorous short stories about. She arrived in the middle of some night, without telling any of them and without any of them noticing. At least until she got drunk, had a duel with four other people in front of the Hanged Man and got arrested by a very disgruntled Aveline.

“I wanted to surprise you all.” She said, after a night in the cells as a still disgruntled Aveline uncuffed her. If she was more rough than usual, Isabela pretended to be extra sensitive about it. Or maybe it was the massive hangover she had been complaining about.

“Next time, do it without slitting people’s throats in my streets. That would truly be a surprise to anyone who knows you.” Aveline growled.

Isabela shot him a look to where he had been watching their exchange bemused. “Her streets?”

Varric just shrugged. “They are certainly not mine.”

She laughed with her head thrown back, her jewelry tinkling in harmony. The sound even made Aveline’s anger melt away, somewhat. How Varric had missed Isabela’s charming obnoxiousness. They were birds of the same feather through and through.

“Get out of here, I’ve got work to do.” She said and waved them both out of the dungeons. Varric knew for a fact there was nothing and no one else in their dungeons to require her attention but he carefully didn’t point that out to her and instead chose to drag Isabela after him.

On their way up from the dungeons, she set an arm around his shoulders and leaned on him as if they were the same height. He winced at the sharp corners of her bracelets getting caught in the fabric of his new shirt, but didn’t shrug her off.

“How have you been, your majesty?” She asked with the worst orlesian accent she could imitate. It was especially insulting because he knew she could also imitate one flawlessly.

“Better than you, pirate. Judging by the way you reek.” He retorted and shoved her away.

“Please, I smell fantastic and you know it,” Isabela said. “Where is Hawke? I figured she would have enjoyed the sight of me in chains.” Varric laughed out of habit but didn’t find it particularly funny.

“She is picking up Daisy. She decided we were due for a round of cards. Aveline and Donnic are even taking the night off.” He explained. A rare occasion indeed. The last time they had both taken the same night off had been the night of Varric’s inauguration as Viscount, and even then they had been in the Keep as guests.

Isabela sighed. “And no Anders to cheat out of his clothes, what a shame.”

“It would have been nice to have everyone together again.” It was a miracle that they were even going to be as many as they were, given everything. He hadn’t seen Fenris or heard much from him directly in about half a year, Anders had last send word before the sky split open, Bethany and Hawke’s mabari were somewhere in the Anderfels as of a week ago, and these days he was happy not to hear from Sebastian at all.

Isabela waved him off as if reading his mind. “No use dwelling on the past. Distance makes the heart grow fatter or whatever they say.”

He snorted and didn’t correct her. “It is nice to have you. I’ve been meaning to talk to you anyway. I require your special skills.”

“Oh?” Isabela wiggled her eyebrows and he continued before she could spill her filthy mind all over him.

“I need your help figuring out what’s going on with Hawke.” He kept his voice low even though the Keep was mostly empty.

“Why, what’s wrong?” Isabela hid her concern well but not well enough for him not to notice it. She still tried to pretend not to care about them sometimes. Varric was familiar.

“She won’t leave.” It didn’t take him much to notice her concern warp into confusion. Beating around the bush with Isabela would only get them sidetracked and he didn’t know when Hawke was planning to return with Daisy so he had cut straight to the chase. Her confusion was unexpected.

“What?”

“She says she might join up with you or Fenris or Bethany, leaves her things unpacked but she has been staying for months. I don’t know what’s keeping her.” He explained and yet Isabela’s forehead wrinkled into a frown.

“You’ve been asking her to leave?” She asked and her tone sounded almost offended.

“I’m expecting it. I just want to know when and she has been unnecessarily secretive about it so I have to know why.”

Isabela took her arm off him and gave him a look that he usually associated with her believing people to be idiots. He had never seen it aimed at himself before. “Isn’t it obvious?” She asked, an annoying echo of Aveline. He almost made the comparison, but stopped himself at the last second.

Instead he frowned at her. “No, hence my need for your assistance.”

“You could be up front about it and just ask her,” she said, but burst out laughing a few moments later. “Kidding. But honestly, I thought you would have figured it out by now.”

Varric huffed. “Well, obviously not. Care to enlighten me?”

“She’s in love with you, you idiot. She is sticking around for you.”

Varric remembered the endless roar of the snowstorm in the Frostback Mountains when they were fleeing Haven, how at one point the noise had seemed to blend into dead silence in his head. It was the exact way he felt the moment his mind processed Isabela’s words.

Hawke. In love with him. What a joke.

He took his time controlling his reaction and twist his face into the right expression. “Right. Very funny.” He replied, keeping his voice low to stop it from cracking.

Isabela was unimpressed with his reaction. “You can dismiss me, but you can’t dismiss the truth Varric.” He stopped in his tracks and she left him standing in the endless hallway of the Viscount Keep.

She waved over her shoulder and swung around a corner as Varric choose to laugh at her retreating back. Hawke in love with him, this wasn’t the plot to some of her friend fiction. This was real life. Hawke wasn’t in love with him. Hawke fell for pretty women and gorgeous men, with fight in their blood and iron in their spine, honest and true.

Not that it mattered, whether or not she did. Varric was a taken man after all. There would always be Bianca. Who was happily married and had abused his trust - if unintentionally. Bianca who he hardly thought about anymore. Another habit he had abandoned sometime during his romp with the Inquisition. Back in the day he had thought of her smile every time he had cleaned his crossbow, had heard her laugh every time he shot a bolt. He couldn’t remember when that had changed.

* * *

“Varric, do you have a minute?” Hawke poked her head into his office.

He waved her inside. “Yeah, sure. Go on.” Varric said, trying to get his mind to focus. Hawke pulled one of the chairs from the corner and sat down on the other side of his desk. He tried to notice any change about her, an indication that had brought their friends to the conclusion that Hawke was in love with him, had been trying all night during their game and all morning. But there was nothing different about her. She had gotten her hair taken care off sometime in the past days, possibly Isabela’s work, and it was finally back to her old length. Her clothes were normal, she hadn’t dressed up or used any makeup or perfume he could detect. Nothing about her appearance indicated she wanted to impress him or make herself more desirable or anything of the sort.

Hawke spread some papers in front of him. “I had a little chat with the lumberjacks and they’ve agreed to work the Planasene Forest for food and protection, and as soon as we organise that we should be set on wood. Lord Baird could not be swayed giving us access to his mine - so we should definitely sic Aveline on him for the tax fraud he tried to cover up - but luckily I have a very good relationship with the owner of the Bone Pit, who couldn’t care less about the resources there. Aveline is willing to station some guards for the workers so we don’t end up with another massacre that’d we’d have to clean up. I’ll take Merrill and Isabela dragon hunting before I’ll let anyone start working there though just to be sure.”, She pointed to the contracts she had negotiated with the wood workers and one with herself and the request for the guard, already signed by Aveline. Hawke had dealt with nobles and state affairs all morning while he had been stuck in a meeting with Ostwick envoy for hours. “Just need your signature to make it official and we can start.”

She shot him a smile and he could do nothing but stare at her.

“Are you in love with me?” He asked. There was no use speculating about it anymore.

Hawke lifted an eyebrow at him. He had expected more surprise. “Yes?” Varric was sure hearts weren’t supposed to stop beating for a couple of seconds. “I thought that was obvious. Didn’t I tell you that already? I feel like we had this conversation before. Back after the Arishok?”, Hawke mused and tapped her fingers against her lips while Varric tried not to choke. “Must have been drunk that night. Or still concussed. I figured you knew.” Almost ten years. Ten years and all Hawke had to add was a shrug.

“I... I didn’t.” He said, his voice tight.

Hawke swallowed at his reaction and shuffled on her seat before she could stop herself. Seconds after she had composed herself, holding her head high.

“If it’s weird for you, just say the word and I’ll leave but I don’t expect anything from you. There is no need to worry.” Every single one of Hawke’s actions reshaped in his mind. Why she had never had a partner in the past, how quickly she had dropped everything to come to Skyhold, even with an active warrant on her head. The wording on some of her letters, the comments of their friends.

He had spent so much time being in love with Bianca it hadn’t been necessary to analyse the feelings regarding other people. Maker, he had been blind.

Hawke rose from her seat, brushing imaginary dust from her pants. “Alright this wasn’t awkward at all. I’ll take care of the Bone Pit tonight and be out of your hair as soon as Isabela sets sail again. Let’s never mention this again, yes? Amazing talk, good night.” She almost sprinted to the door. By the time Varric managed to find his voice she was halfway through it already.

“Hawke wait,” she stopped, but her shoulder sagged in defeat. She had hoped to avoid the confrontation and Varric wasn’t even sure if he wanted it either. But a voice in his head told him if he let her go now, he would lose this chance. Whatever this chance even was. It was something significant.

Varric was certain he loved Hawke. As a friend, as a comrade and as a person. He wasn’t quite sure if he was in love with her. It wasn’t a possibility he had ever bothered to entertain. It would be easy to love her. She was beautiful, deadly and smart. He trusted her with his life and his legacy. She was interesting enough that he mused about writing a second book about her life, so he couldn’t imagine ever growing bored with her around. The more he thought about it the more it sounded like he had an answer for her already. But he couldn’t give her some half-baked mess his mind scrambled together in a few minutes of revelation. Hawke deserved better than that. But he had to give her something.

“I’d love for you to stay.” He settled on, trying not to cringe at his own words.

Hawke relaxed a bit, her expression growing soft. “Alright.”, she managed a small smile. “I’ll still go and kill so dragons tonight. I feel like destroying things.” She let out a forced laugh and Varric joined in, just as forced.

“Have fun. See you at breakfast tomorrow? That is to say see you dinner most likely,” He asked with a weak grin.

“Of course.” Hawke said and gave him a wave of her hand before leaving his office in a swift stride.

Varric sighed as soon as he believed her out of earshot. Tomorrow he would have a better response for her. He owed her that much and more.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I know even less about running a city state than Varric does


End file.
